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And in the two years since the day Cassandra Lightwell both met and married Joshua DeWitt, he had not visited her once. Indeed, as far as anyone was aware, Mr. and Mrs. DeWitt had not even communicated since their wedding day, and Cassandra preferred that everyone Not Mention her marriage. Cassandra had married a stranger purely to save her inheritance, and she did not mope about in her bed.
Then there was Juno, who had sacrificed all hope of respectability to become a professional artist with her own studio in London, and neither did she complain. Arabella thought herself so strong, but clearly they were stronger.
“What is your concern, Cassandra?” She turned away from the mirror. “That my famously cold heart is broken or my famously enormous pride is dented?”
“At least I needn’t worry about your famously acerbic tongue. Anyway, that is all rot. I believe you are a warm, loving woman like any of us.”
“Yes, but you also believe that you can reason with your mother’s goat and that your sister Lucy will not end up as a courtesan.”
“Youarefeeling better then.” Smiling, Cassandra laid a hand on Arabella’s arm. “If you ever need help, you will ask us, won’t you?”
“I never need help.”
“Of course not. But I need to offer help. So please indulge me.”
Cassandra did not fool Arabella, but clearly Arabella did not fool her friend either.
“Very well,” Arabella said. “If it makes you feel better, I will come to you if I need help.”
“It does. Because you always help others, even when you pretend not to.”
Juno looked up from arranging her illustrations. “I remember when I was… That is, when my body matured earlier than most girls. Some village boys were teasing me, until you ordered them to stop. You hit one with a stick.”
“I don’t remember that.”
Cassandra laughed. “Probably just another day for you. You’re always fighting about something.”
“For which I shall not apologize,” Arabella said.
“Of course not,” Juno teased. “First you would have to learn how to apologize.”
“Why on earth should I learn how to apologize when I never do anything that merits an apology?”
Cassandra and Juno only laughed; they had known her too long to be fooled.
Ignoring them, Arabella joined Juno to study the bird illustrations she had commissioned.
“These drawings are excellent.” She touched an exquisitely rendered nightingale and glanced at Juno, who beamed proudly. “Your studio will soon be flourishing.”
Arabella would take these drawings with her to her grandparents’ house, where she would completeThe Illustrated Guide to the Vindale Aviaries, and send several copies to Papa. The ornithology journal had not interested him at first, either. All alone, she had gathered the papers from his convention, edited, translated, and compiled them, solicited subscribers, negotiated with a London printer, and organized distribution. Now he was involved every step of the way.
“I should also like to commissionAn Illustrated Guide to the Longhope Abbey, if you have time,” Arabella said, moving to the window to view the famous ruins. Too late, she remembered that Papa had cast her out; after the ball, this would no longer be her home.
Juno joined her at the window. “I shall make time. Which reminds me, I must thank you. I secured a lucrative job illustrating a book on wildflowers, thanks to your recommendation.”
“I have no hesitation in recommending someone with your talent and professionalism.”
There: Arabella was not entirely useless. She had helped her friend Thea publish a pamphlet and Juno build her career, and she made Cassandra feel needed, and perhaps she would save Freddie from Sir Walter Treadgold’s schemes. She could be of some use to the world, for all that the sight of her made no one smile and she could not drop a ribbon to save her life.
Just as well. How annoying it would be, to have men always underfoot picking up her ribbons.
“I would provide my artistic services for free if you commissioned an Illustrated Guide tothat,” Juno said, as Cassandra joined them. Juno pointed at Guy. He had taken off his coat and was lounging on the grass, as he had lounged naked on the daybed. “Lord Hardbury has become quite magnificent. Speaking purely as an artist, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Would you like to hear a shocking secret?” Juno added.
“They are the only sort worth hearing.”
